


The End

by Dormchi



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Angst, Drug Use, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:36:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dormchi/pseuds/Dormchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Endverse drabbles with a side of Destiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

“You are not you. Not now you, anyway.”

Dean takes stock of the various pill bottles.

Ritalin. Clozapine. Risperidone. 31 other flavors of narcotics.

“What, are you stoned?”

“Generally, yeah.”

A sharp pain manifests itself in Dean’s chest.

“Not what you were expecting, I know.” Castiel leans forward, disregarding personal space entirely. He’s almost nose to nose with Dean. “What year are you from?”

“2009.”

“Interesting.”

Castiel picks up an unmarked orange bottle, twists off the childproof cap, and shakes out four white pills. They’re washed down with a swig from a plastic bottle of Popov.

Dean can sense a moment of internal struggle before Castiel offers him the pills and vodka.

“When did you start popping pills, Cas? Hell, when did you get like this in general?” Dean asks, turning down the proffered drugs with a shake of his head.

“Right. You don’t want to know about all of that.”

“Trust me, I want to know,” Dean insists.

Another internal struggle, almost imperceptibly affecting Castiel’s expression, but Dean notices.

“I don’t know, Dean. The world ended, but we’re still here, we’re still fighting,” Castiel explains, rubbing absently at his stubble with the back of his hand. “Something good came out of all of this misery and despair, I think. I experienced something that was most likely,  _probably_ , love. Something like that.”

“You fell for a girl?”

“No. I fell in love with human vices. Take the white pills to stay awake. The yellow pills make everything quiet.” He gestures to certain bottles that are separate from the collective stash. “The blue pills mask pain for a while.”

“Chase everything down with cheap vodka that tastes like paint thinner?” Dean interjects.

Castiel smiles and Dean sees a small glimmer of the old Cas, the one waiting for him in 2009.

“I do love someone, but things like that end,” Castiel explains, staring a little too intently at Dean.

Dean shifts uncomfortably as it dawns on him what Cas means. He hadn’t fallen in love with a girl, but  _had_  fallen in love.

“Who is it?” Dean asks, and isn’t sure if he’s ready to hear the answer.

“I’ve had five years to consider my feelings, which is an incredibly short amount of time since I’ve existed from the beginning,” Castiel says patiently, leaning precariously on his tiptoes to invade Dean’s personal space again.

“Do I love you back?” Dean’s voice falters a little.

“Nothing is perfect.” 


	2. Two

“Oh, we were in, uh, Jane’s cabin last night. And apparently, we and  _Risa_ ,” Dean explains helpfully, “have a connection.”

Dean takes note of the pained smile, the one that Castiel bows his head to try and hide, and the withering look from his future self.

“You wanna shut up?”

He holds up his hands in surrender and keeps his mouth shut. He tries to, anyway, and manages for all of a minute.

“Our fearless leader, I’m afraid, is all too well schooled in the art of getting to the truth,” Castiel says, his voice resigned and cynical.

“Torture? Oh, so, we’re—we’re torturing again. No that’s—that’s good. Classy,” Dean says sarcastically, his heart hammering in his chest. Judging from the curious look on Castiel’s face, he wonders if the whole room can hear his nervous heartbeat.

Castiel laughs a little, and Dean swears that the only laugh this future Cas can manage is a self-deprecating, bitter one. It’s a sound that Dean never wants to hear again.

“What?” Castiel says with a smile, shrugging off Future Dean’s irritated look. “I like past you.”

Dean knows that he’s not imagining the jealousy that darkens Future Dean’s expression for a moment before he steels himself and continues with his explanation of _the plan_.

The rest of the exchanges between his future self and Castiel are interesting, to say the least. If Dean is honest with himself, he really,  _really_  wants to know what the hell happened in the five years leading up to this moment. At the same time, he really, _really_ doesn’t.

In the truck alone with Castiel, it takes several long, awkward minutes before he’s ready to ask. Even then, he feels like he’s swallowing around an enormous ball of cotton in his throat and his palms are sweating.  _Pull it together, Dean. You’re just casually bringing up your supposed future gay relationship with a fallen angel. Big fucking deal._

“I don’t know a whole lot about love,” Dean admits, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. He licks his lips and turns his head to look at Cas. “But uh, I thought you said I— _he_  didn’t love you back.”

“I never said that,” Castiel says matter-of-factly. He fishes out an orange bottle and shakes a few pills free, swallowing them dry. “He does. We’ve been hurting each other over it for the past five years, give or take.”

“Let me see those,” Dean says a little sharper than he means to, grasping at anything he can to change the subject.

“You want some?”

_They won’t help._


	3. Three

“They’ll never see us coming. Trust me.”

When the others are distracted, Dean drags Castiel away from the group.

“You know that you’re the fucking decoy, right?” Dean hisses, grabbing Castiel’s shoulders and shoving him up against a totaled van.

“I know.”

Castiel is the perfect picture of calm and medicated, and it infuriates Dean. He shakes with barely restrained rage, clenching his teeth so hard that his head starts to hurt.

“I told you,” Castiel breathes, wrapping one hand around the back of Dean’s neck, “these things come to an end.”

“He loves you. I can fucking see it all over his face,” Dean says heatedly, the gravity of the entire situation hitting him in the chest and making his entire body ache. “And he’s going to let you die.”

“He’s always loved Sam more,” Castiel replies dreamily, head lolling to the side. There was another pill cocktail that had followed the amphetamines, apparently taking effect before Dean’s eyes.

He’ll be damned if he’s going to let this happen.

“Hey, uh… me. Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Future Dean seems irritated by the request, but follows.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Dean says, watching his future self for the lying expressions that he knows so well.

Past the initial lies and his threat to take his concerns to the group, his future self gives in.

“Look around you, man. This place should be white-hot with Crotes. Where are they?”

Dean knew deep down that this was where they were headed, into a trap where Castiel and company would be the bait. He just didn’t want to believe it. Still, he’s hearing it from the source, and he’s never hated himself more.

“You mean you’re going to feed your friends into a meat grinder? Cas, too?” Dean asks warily, trying to decide if he should try to knock some sense into his future self or just knock him the fuck out.

Future Dean throws a punch.

Dean blacks out.

He wakes to the sound of shots being fired.

_Cas._


End file.
